Bug-Eyes, Boys, and My friend Ginny Weasley
by Iris Arcadia
Summary: Ginny is a quiet girl. Despite the efforts of a fellow forth year she has no boyfriend. By her best friend, Tori Rea Standberry, is determined to change that...and ends up creating the most awkward situation she's ever been faced wth! You like? R/R!
1. Ginny Weasley really needs to lighten up

TITLE: Bug-Eyes, Boys, and My Friend Ginny Weasley  
  
AUTHOR: IrisArcadia  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
PAIRING: You'll find out...  
  
DISCLAIMER: I wish it were mine, but alas, it's not.  
  
SUMMARY: Ginny Weasley is a very quiet girl, and despite the efforts  
  
of a Gryffindor names Benedict Gould her love life is non-existent.  
  
Tori Rea Stanberry (A.K.A. Ginny's best friend) does her best to  
  
change that, and ends up in one of the most awkward situation of her  
  
fourteen year life...  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hope you enjoy. R/R! : )  
  
Bug-Eyes, Boys, and My Friend Ginny Weasley  
  
Chapter One: Ginny Weasley really needs to lighten up  
  
Ginny Weasley really needs to lighten up. I mean she's always so tense. I swear, if someone stuck a coal up the girl's arse it would turn into a bloody diamond. I love her, of course. She's my best friend. But bloody hell someone needs to teach that child how to have fun. "It's not her fault that she'd always so anxious," said Denise Atherton when we were in the loo talking about it. "I mean, we should applaud her -surviving fourteen years with just brothers for company! Not just brother -Fred and George Weasley! With their stupid pranks and cream canaries! I'd have gone mad!" "Don't be so sympathetic," I muttered savagely. What can I say: Years of living with Mr. I-Still-Shag-Like-A-Bachelor and the Beast (A.K.A. my dad and step-mum) have not molded me into a model person. "Ginny doesn't need sympathy." "Well she doesn't need to be attacked either," Denise pointed out harshly. "Your rather fond of doing that, you know. I really should tell Ginny to stop calling you her best friend." "I'm not attacking Ginny," I muttered impatiently. Denise was what Professor Snape would call a dunderhead, a wet dunderhead at that. Didn't she understand anything? "I'm looking out for Ginny. I don't want to watch her waste her life. She should be enjoying herself." "Right," Denise muttered with a hint of sarcasm in her tone. Who knew that she had that kind of wit? "And you're the party queen." I'm overestimated her. She doesn't have wit, none at all. "I have some bloody fun when I want to," I said quickly. Denise threw me a 'tut-tut' look. "Stop swearing," she chided. "Bloody. Bloody, bloody, bloody hell!" "Tori!" she squealed. "Stop it. You know that I don't appreciate swearing. It's hardly proper." "Most things aren't proper, Denny," I said. Denise rolled her eyes. "Don't call me, Denny. Honestly, Tori, you're like a child. Must I constantly reprimand you? How long are you going to be caught in this selfish rampage?" "Till I bloody keel over and die." Now I was becoming very impatient. "Look, do you want to help me or not?" "Help you what?" "Help me help Ginny." As if she could be thicker. "I don't want her to spent the rest of her life sitting on the side lines, ringing her hands in anxiety over her crush and studies and her bloody brothers. I want her to have fun." "No you don't," Denise accused. She was getting cross, which didn't make her attractive. Denise's complexion was very.red. When she was angry she took on the appearance of a walking tomato. "You're the most selfish prat I've ever met, Tori. You don't want anything for anyone but you. What you're planning.you want to mold Ginny into you, and that would be simply horrid. I mean -look at you! You're actions! You're a psychotic, sadistic monster!" I was liking Denise less and less by the second. Fortunately, I remained calm. "Naturally," I said, "but what does that make you, a prude?" Denise was simply taken aback. I smiled my best friendly smile and walked away. Please enigmatic-omniscient-force-of-the-universe, I prayed as I walked out of the room, don't let Ginny be mad about this. Because, if she is then.. Well, I have no friends. ***  
  
How can I explain this? There are four girls in currently attending Hogwarts who are fourth year Gryffindors: Denise Atherton, Margot Neilson, Ginny Weasley, and me. Denise and Margot got along right away, of course, because they're both wet prudes. Ginny was too busy being shy to make friends with anyone except her stupid black notebook -and we all know how that turned out. As for me.well, who cares about my excuse? Either way, I was not the most social person first year. But during second year Ginny and I bonded you might say. She's a bit needy and annoying, but she grew on me. I'm rather fond of my nervous chum. And she'd never demanded any answers from me, unlike my two other roommates. When you come right down to it, Ginny is my best friend. In fact, I almost invited her to spend a week at my house over the summer, but then I remembered that the Beast still lived there and I instantly abandoned that thought. Despite Denise's accusation, I am in no way sadistic. Now had I actually invited someone into my step-mum's lair, then I would have been sadistic, thank you. My step-mum hate's me. And, I suppose that, in her mind anyway, she had valid reason. She's my dad's proper wife and everything. I'm the child an affair he had with his mistress (one of them). It's a very long story, and I see no need to go into details. My mum's dead. So, anyway, after I was born the Beast felt the need to say: "Hey! This is my husband! Mine!" And so she had no less then five babies to prove that point. Anyway, guess which kids she likes better? I'm a minority in my own house. It's maddening! Really though, you should see our family portraits. There's me Dad and Step-Mum and Silas and Judith and Pearl and Felix and Ophelia all tall, thin, with tame blond hair, small blue eyes, and smiling. Then there I am. Square shoulders, sawn-neck, huge brown eyes, thick brown hair that is absolutely wild, and a bit on the short side, a bit on the chubby side, too. I stick out like a sore thumb. Obviously. Actually, most people don't find the picture quite as funny as I do. They thing it's strange, and then they get all sympathetic, like I'm psychologically scarred because of the environment I was brought up in. I probably am. But I still don't want pity for it. Pity is the absolutely lamest thing mankind ever invented. There's no good use for it and it annoys people. Don't teach a pig how to sing -it wastes your time and it annoys the pig. That's a phrase I've barrowed form me granddad. He's the only cool grown-up that exists in the arena of my family -apart from me, of course. The Beast says he's off his rocker and Dad nods and agrees with her because she's his wife and he doesn't want to contradict her, but I think granddad's cool. My grandmamma isn't though. She pities me. Not because of I'm forced to live with the Beast, that conflict is beyond her comprehension. She has it in her head that I should be ashamed because of the way I was conceived. I know she's ashamed about it. I think, though, that she'd afraid of me. Or maybe she's just scared of what I represent. Anyway, I didn't invite Ginny to my house for summer holidays and she didn't extend any such invitation to me. She wrote and said she was going to the Quiddich World Cup with her brothers and Harry, and I wrote back saying that was great and I hoped she had a great time. I asked my Dad if I could get a ticket somehow over dinner one night. The Beast stepped in before he could answer. She said no. The Beast is damn bossy. ***  
  
I walked into the Gryffindor Common room after a particularly long session of Divination. Of all the pointless classes, Divination is the pits. Anyone can predict the future the way she does. Watch I'll show you. You're gonna die. See? It will happen eventually, I promise. But why does Professor Trelawney always have to go on and on about it? She's so bloody gory. She keeps picking on Ginny, telling her that the grim is after her and a bunch of other nonsense. Denise and Margot giggle, and the boys roll their eyes, and Ginny turns white. And I sat in there, annoyed, thinking: Does Ginny actually believe that prat? And so I ended up saying something stupid and Bug-Eyes (as I call Professor Trelawney) starts picking on me. Life really is fair. Not. Anyway, Bug-Eyes, in addition to predicating my demise no less than ten billion times in class, felt that I needed to spent quality time with her in detention, so I had to stay after class to arrange it. Fun. I just can't wait for an evening with Bug-eyes! When I get to the common room Ginny is sitting at a table, reading of all horrid things to do, sitting right across Hermione Granger, the biggest nerd-bookworm ever to be born, who was also reading. Ginny's brother Ron was sitting next to Ginny and Harry Potter was sitting across from him, next to Bookworm. Lucky me, the table was for six. There was plenty of room for me to sit down too. In the past, Ginny's had the unfortunate habit of filling the last seat at tables for four, leaving no room for me. I've been forced to spend the night with Colin, Benedict, Russell, Mark, and Nathaniel (the male Gryffindor fourth-years) than I can count. Not necessarily a bad thing, mind you, because old Benedict can really be a bunch of fun, until. never mind. Oh, fine, I'll tell you. It's rather embarrassing. You see I had this slight.well, when I was a stupid third year I was in love with Benedict Gould. Not anymore, not now, but back then. And, of course, he sees me as a friend, one of the guys. He confides in me that he's discovered his true love: Ginny. Yes, the only guy I've ever been in love with is in love with my best friend. And, to make the matter worse, she's completely clueless. Blind. After I got over the initial shock of it all (it's a bit traumatic for a girl, finding out the boy she loves is in love with her blind best friend), I started operation get Ben and Ginny to Hook Up and Start Snogging Already! So far, that mission had been a complete failure. But I've figured out why: Ginny doesn't know how too loosen up. I mean, Benedict genuinely cares about her and respects her and listens to what she says, but he's a guy and he does want to have fun. Whenever he makes a move -he'll touch her arm or shoulder, wink at her, or (less gentlemanly) admire her cleavage (yes, Ginny Weasley has breasts) -Ginny runs in the other direction. And it's not like she doesn't want to do those sort of womanly things. When she was still hopelessly in love with Harry she'd tell me about her fantasies and they were in no way G-rated. I wonder how Harry would react if her knew about the things she told me. Or, ever better, how Ron would take it. Hero and Hot-stick (Harry is Hero, of course, but don't even ask why I can Ron Hot-stick, because he'd mega hot and tall, like a tree or a stick.but don't tell Ginny I said so) strike me as reasonable people, but they'd definitely have volatile reactions to little Ginny's not so innocent mind. Hero would be embarrassed as hell. And Hot-stick.well people tell me that I swear.Hmm. While Hermione and Ginny read, Hero and Hot-stick played chess. I hate chess. "Hey, Ginny," I said as I sat down next to her. I decided that, for the sake of fitting in with Bookworm who Ginny was so keen on emulating, I'd read stuff too. I had a very firm grip on my transfiguration book. It's a cool subject, and McGonagall's my favorite professor. "Hey, Tori," she said. "When's the detention?" "Tomorrow at eight," I muttered. "Oh," Ginny said sweetly. She looked more nervous than usual, and I didn't understand. Hermione put her book down and flashed a warm smile my way. Hero and Hot-stick were look at me, too. Hot-stick's eyes were transfixed on my breasts. Yuck. I mean, he'd cute and all, but I wouldn't date him even if you paid me a million gallons. Well, maybe if it was a million gallons. But, not for anything less, mind you. "Hello," Hot-stick said, extending his hand. "I'm Ron. Ginny's brother." "Of course," I said, taking his hand -gross -and letting go after less than a split second. "The hair gives it away."  
  
"That's Hermione," Ron said, "And that's Harry. What's your name, again? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch it." "Tori," I told him, "Tori Rea Stanberry." Tori Rea was my mum's, my real mum's pick when it came to my name. If she hadn't died I would have been Tori Rea Morelli, a half English, half Italian witch, probably living in Canada. She had lived in Canada. There was a bizarre reason for it, but I don't remember what it was. I hate not knowing. It makes me hate myself so much, and that scares me. After Ron's introductions, things quieted down. I began to read, but that was difficult. I mean, what if my best friend's older brother had developed a crush on me? That would be far too complicated. Transfiguration is a great art, but it can be so bloody technical, and that's a bore. But I guess you learn more that way. What would we do without our professors? Well, there are some we could do without, McGonagall excluded. Bug- Eyes obviously could go without anyone shedding tears, Sprout can be annoying, Madam Pomfrey.now that's a woman who can get on everybody's nerves. I enjoy Snape, even if he does hate me for being a Gryffindor. But I'm insane so don't mind me. 


	2. You know You’re in Trouble When a Slythe...

TITLE: Bug-Eyes, Boys, and My Friend Ginny Weasley  
  
AUTHOR: IrisArcadia  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
PAIRING: You'll find out...  
  
DISCLAIMER: I wish it were mine, but alas, it's not.  
  
SUMMARY: Ginny Weasley is a very quiet girl, and despite the efforts  
  
of a Gryffindor names Benedict Gould her love life is non-existent.  
  
Tori Rea Stanberry (A.K.A. Ginny's best friend) does her best to  
  
change that, and ends up in one of the most awkward situation of her  
  
fourteen year life...  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hmm…actually, I just read 'Angus, Thongs, and Full-frontal Snogging' and I loved it! Be sure to slap me in the face, though, if Tori becomes too much like Georgia! R/R!  
  
Bug-Eyes, Boys, and My Friend Ginny Weasley  
  
Chapter Two: You know You're in Trouble When a Slytherin Says I Love You  
  
Millions of things have been said about Albus Dumbledore over the million trillion years that he's resided on the planet (one-hundred and fifty, actually, but I say a million trillion because I'm not nice…he looks good for his age, I guess). People say he'd mad, people say he's powerful…  
  
I say he's brilliant!  
  
Why? You ask. Since when does Tori Rea Stanberry compliment anything that breaths?  
  
Dumbledore, in all his genius, has decided that in light of the rise of Voldemort we, as a wizarding community, need to pull together into a tighter, stronger unit. Or, to translate his words into actual English, we all need to learn how to like each other. And what is the ultimate parade for people who like each other? A dance.  
  
That's right. Hogwarts is having a dance. Complete with a dress robes, and music, and dancing…well, that sums it up actually. A dance. Actually, now that I think about it, there really is nothing huge or exciting about a dance, except that I've never been to one before and it would be really, really wicked if a boy wanted to go with me. Gosh, I need to stop dreaming or I'll end up breaking my own heart.  
  
Anyway, I must concentrate on the mission, which is to get Ginny and Benedict to Hook Up and Just Start Snogging Already!  
  
Then again, Ginny's rather impossible. Perhaps I shouldn't bother. I just… If I can't have Benedict then someone should, and it might as well be the girl who makes him happy. Merlin, I thought that I didn't love Benedict anymore, but with all this commotion over dances…  
  
Well, I'm resolved to forget about Benedict completely.  
  
Right.  
  
*~  
  
For once in her pathetic life Denise had a good idea. "We should probably practice with make-up a bit before the dance," she said casually. The dance was September 29th, eleven days away.  
  
As a group Denise, Margot, Ginny, and I snuck into the loo (it was midnight) all sorts of cosmetics in hand. "I really don't have much experience with make-up," Ginny admitted sheepishly. "I mean, it's just me and my brothers and…well, I'm glad that they don't wear make-up." I giggled lightly.  
  
Margot, being the prude she was, knotted her brow in what was supposed to be concentration. To be quite frank, she looked constipated. "Didn't your mother teach you?"  
  
"Well, I never really asked, and…"  
  
"Don't worry about it," I said, coming to Ginny's rescue. "My step- mum never taught me, either. Not that I'd want her to. Imagine, hours in front of a mirror practicing mascara techniques with the beast! I bet she'd end up poking my eyes out, or vice versa."  
  
Denise gave me a 'tut-tut' look that she was so fond of. "That's not a good way of showing respect to your mother," she scolded. Now, if there is one argument that I will not lose, it is an argument about my step-mum.  
  
"You don't live with her," I said, my voice raising. I could feel my blood boil. "The poor excuse for a human being has despised me since day one! And she hasn't been very graceful about it! She'd horrid!"  
  
Denise, the fool, was also resolved. "She raised you and you aren't even her own…"  
  
"I don't want to be the Beast's spawn!"  
  
"Shh!" Ginny was speaking. "Please, Tori, you don't want to wake up a prefect, do you?"  
  
"Nah." I turned to face Margot. "So, where's the lip-stick?"  
  
"Here," said Margot dumping out a cosmetic bag. Honestly, make-up marvels me. Who needs have of the gobbly gook? I picked up a lipstick.  
  
"Misty Burgundy-Crush?" I read. "What the hell does that mean?"  
  
"Nothing," Margot said, speaking slowly as if talking to a small child, or worse, an uneducated homeless woman. "It's just the name of the shade. It's a dark, brownish red, obviously." Stupid, wet, dunderhead, prude… but I really did need her help.  
  
I have some make-up at home, sitting in my dresser, unless one of my bloody little sisters have gone through my stuff again and stolen it. Judith can't as she'd a first year (hufflepuff), but Pearl and Ophelia still could if they wanted to. I hope Ophelia finds it. She's a cute little kid. She'd probably use the lipstick as wall crayon.  
  
As far as my brothers and sisters are concerned, I've learned not to hold their mother against them. In fact, I like them, love them. Silas and Judith are hear at Hogwarts (Silas is in his second year), and Pearl will be entering when I'm a sixth year and I guess I won't be here by the time Felix and Ophelia are old enough to attend. Ophelia's three, cute as a bottom. I love her to death.  
  
Anyway, I have make-up my room. The beast gave it to me. To taunt me, I think, but she claims that she just wants to help me grow into a woman. Right.  
  
Denise was civil when she showed me how to do eye liner. That's what I like best, putting lines around my eyes and making them even bigger than they are. Sure, how wonderful. Actually, now they look kind of cool.  
  
I was just thinking 'Maybe Denise isn't that bad…' when a pompous, arrogant grin appeared on her face, as if she was proclaiming herself queen of the world. I must remember not to get so wishy-washy around prudes.  
  
*~  
  
Four days and counting till the dance.  
  
I was talking with Ginny yesterday in the dorm room when Margot and Denise weren't around. "Hey, Ginny," I said, "you know that Benedict really want to dance with you, right?"  
  
Ginny blushed. "You've been telling me for ages," she said sheepishly, then added, "and he's a nice guy."  
  
"So you'll dance with him?" I inquired.  
  
"Maybe…" Ginny trailed off. "When I danced with Neville last year it was different, Ron and George and Fred all knew that he meant nothing to me…but they don't know Ben."  
  
"So?" I asked. At times, Ginny can make very little sense.  
  
"So, they'll tease me, reticule me… Ben will get fed up with it, and then he'll hate me to. And, really, I do like him. Or at least I'm flattered by him…" Ginny looked defeated. "I really don't know."  
  
"Ginny, be selfish," I commanded. "Just relax. If you don't stop worrying and start being yourself you'll end up a bitter old witch who smells a moth balls and has ten billion cats."  
  
For a moment Ginny looked miserable, and then an odd smile lit face. "I like cats," she said mischievously. I threw my pillow at her.  
  
*~  
  
Six days to the dance. Ginny and I were working rather quietly in potions class (your doomed to a billion detentions if you're not quiet in potions class, but I like Snape anyway). Benedict had been making casual comments to Ginny such as 'See you there' and 'Maybe you'll save a dance for me?' Not a soul had asked me at that point.  
  
Notice I say, at that point. Someone was on the verge of asking me to be his dance date, and it wasn't pretty.  
  
Helmut Broderick was three things, primarily: Short, slimy, and stupid. I had a very high opinion of him, not. Anyway, when the bell rang and everyone ran out of the dungeon faster than a heard of scared hyenas, Broderick grabbed my arm and stopped me.  
  
"What the hell?" I said, surprised that he grabbed me, and the force with which he grabbed it. "What do you want?"  
  
"Don't be feisty," he warned in a sort of bubbling voice that make is sound like there was ten pounds of mucous at the bottom of his throat. "You're a girl and girls aren't supposed to be feisty in relationships."  
  
"Well, you're got the wrong woman then," I proclaimed, trying to pull my arm away, but he was holding it, hard. This pissed me off. But it also it scared me. I mean, Slytherins are known to be ruthless, and I didn't want to be Slytherin's captive.  
  
"I love you," Broderick said. I ceased to struggle. Shock doesn't even begin to describe my feelings. Suddenly, Broderick was getting closer to me, as if he was going to kiss…  
  
I pushed him away and he stumbled back wards, letting go of my arm. "Hey!" he shouted from the floor. "What was that for? I'm going to the dance with you!"  
  
I ran.  
  
*~  
  
"Are you going to be in there forever?" Ginny asked me. "You'll miss dinner." I had been washing my arm with soap and hot water for hours.  
  
"A Slytherin told me that he loved me, an ugly Slytherin," I muttered while scrubbing. "Now, if it had been a cute Slytherin, like, say, Draco Malfoy, then maybe I'd be okay. But it was Helmut Broderick! Who names their kid Helmut?"  
  
Ginny sighed. "Do you have a point?"  
  
"Yes," I said. "My point is that you know you're in trouble when a Slytherin says I love you."  
  
"Unless it's Draco?" Ginny inquired with a sly grin.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Ginny looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. "Ron would go with you if you asked him," Ginny pointed out. "He told me that he thought you were pretty cute. And I'm sure he'd be better company then someone like Draco."  
  
"Wouldn't you be uncomfortable with that?" I asked. The thought of dancing with Ron Weasley…he was only, what, two feet taller than me? And what if we had a good time and he wanted to kiss me? Gosh, I'd really end up straining my neck.  
  
The only person I've ever kissed is Benedict, on a dare via Colin.  
  
It wasn't pretty. He tried to stick his tough down my throat, but I still like him.  
  
"Yes, I would be uncomfortable," Ginny admitted. She was ignorant to Ben's kiss, which was perfectly fine with me. She's my best friend, but aren't some things sacred? Private?  
  
"I'll just go solo," I said. "That way I'm free to snog all the solo- go boys. It will be so much fun that way. I bet I'll dance with ten different people." Ginny smiled sadly, like she didn't have the nerve to tell me I was lying.  
  
"I'm nervous about dancing with Ben," Ginny admitted. "Last year, with Neville, he kept on stepping on my feet. I swear, I had a bruise on my right foot that lasted for a week. It was torture."  
  
"Benedict's more graceful," I assured her.  
  
"There's something else," Ginny said. "I…"  
  
"Spit it out," I urged her.  
  
Ginny shock her head. "I…I really think that Draco Malfoy's…well, he's damn sexy."  
  
I was shocked. I mean…Ginny? Looking at a Slytherin as hot? Well, all right, any breathing female would be forced to admit that Draco Malfoy is pretty sexy, but what self-respecting Gryffindor would actually admit it?  
  
As strange as I found Ginny's words, as unbelievable as they truly were, I was determined to remained the understand friend. "Well, of course he's good looking," I muttered. I was not yet mature enough to call him damn sexy.  
  
"He… he has this sort of dreamy look about him," Ginny confided in me, "like…. I shouldn't be thinking of him like this. It's…"  
  
"Ginny," I said, turning white in a moment of revelation, "you don't like him do you?"  
  
"No!" Ginny shouted, turning so red that her hair and her skin matched. "I mean, personality does count for something in my book. And let's face it, Draco has the personality of a…"  
  
"Of a dragon with a stick up its ass?" I supplied.  
  
"Right. Draco has the personality of a dragon with a stick up its ass" –she flustered a little bit, as if she was embarrassed saying ass – "on a good day. He's stupid and shitless and he and my brother absolutely despise each other…"  
  
"Have you been talking to him?" I inquired.  
  
"No," Ginny said, but sadly this time, as if she didn't have to feel embarrassed around me. "Tori, am I…am I a renegade for having a bit of sympathy towards him? Am…am I betraying people with how I feel?"  
  
I was boggled. "You do like him then, don't you?"  
  
"No!" Ginny insisted. "I'm physically attracted to him because he's...he's fucking gorgeous! But I hate him! Now, answer the question, Tori. Am I a traitor?"  
  
"No," I said, "of course not." I paused for a moment, trying to find the words to explain. "Ginny, you're the same, sweet girl you always were. It's not your fault that you think he's hot. Even, I'll admit that. You have nothing to be ashamed of."  
  
"Thanks," said Ginny. She inhaled deeply. "Are you ready to go to evening meal now?"  
  
"Yeah," I said, and we headed off.  
  
* ~  
  
All right, operation get Ben and Ginny to Hook Up and Start Snogging Already has just gotten a million times harder. Ginny is falling for Draco Malfoy. Yuck! He's a Slytherin. Double Yuck! If Draco was a ravenclaw or a hufflepuff I would snog him in half a second, but he's a Slytherin. Yuck!  
  
The really bad thing, though, is that if Ginny ever tells Draco about her feelings then he'll probably break her heart. Heck, it's guaranteed that he'll break her heart. All right, so there's a marginal chance that it will happen (nothing's impossible) but I know he'll break her heart. I predict it to be so. See, all those lessons with Bug-Eyes are starting to pay off.  
  
Well, yippee, the dance is going to be so much fun. 


End file.
